A Diary of Lacus Clyne
by the Black Rose
Summary: Athrun POV. Post-Destiny. Athrun struggles to honor a request - causing him to deal with long-buried emotions. "I was charged with writing an article about a more human side of Lacus Clyne. But, Lacus was always something of a mystery to me..."
1. You want me to write an article?

**_A Diary of Lacus Clyne  
_**by the Black Rose

**AN:** Set post-Destiny, though it could almost be taken for AU (since there's no reference to politics or the actual war). All PLANT/Coordinator/genetic...er stuff is explained (and most of it invented). Thank you to those who will read it. Love, Rose

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Gundam Seed. This fanfiction has no commercial value and I am not making any kind of profit or income off of this story, or the use of characters owned by Sunrise and Bandai.

**Note:** Written in Athrun first person POV.

* * *

Prologue

After surviving two universal wars that pitted brother against brother, Coordinators against Naturals. I left the battlefield to cope with life, and a future that was similar to the one I imagined as a kid, but…strange at the same time. It was like someone had taken the image and mangled it, twisted it around until it became a different picture of what once was supposed to be my life. Somehow recognizable, and at the same time…completely different.

It happened just after my twenty-second birthday. Where the years had gone since I was eighteen, I didn't exactly know. It was like I had flipped a switch before settling behind the wheel of a car - setting it on cruise control with no particular direction. And I was asleep in the driver's seat.

That was my life.

I had found work as an engineer for an automotive company – designing vehicles primarily for harvesting and other agricultural purposes here on the PLANTs. A new and vital industry for the colonies' survival.

It didn't pay a fortune, but the salary was good enough for a single guy with no dependents, and so were the benefits. Though I could have stood for an actual office instead of one of these drafting desks and a whiteboard.

I found myself in a routine. One most people probably fall into. I got up every morning, drove to work, completed my assigned tasks for the morning, ate lunch, went back to work, finished up my day, fought traffic to get home, where I'd order something for takeout (or heat up leftover pizza) and watch tv while I ate. Then, I'd check email, and finally fall into bed sometime close to midnight only to do it all again the next day. Ok, so maybe the leftover pizza and takeout is something reserved for bachelors only. But, poor eating habits aside, it was a reasonable routine. A safe routine. And a safe kind of life.

I don't remember thinking I was lonely. Or that anything was missing. I don't remember thinking anything at all. Until the day I received a very strange phone call… It may as well have been an alarm clock or a horn blaring from one of the other drivers on the road. My eyes shot wide open.

The car that had become my boring, safe kind of life was no longer on cruise control. And speeding straight into oncoming traffic.

* * *

Chapter 1

It was an ordinary day. I was twirling a pencil on the end of my thumb and trying to calculate the density of material required for the rear axel on my new harvester design – in order to counter balance the arm. I was calculating this in my head while trying to ignore my coworker Emily's chatter. These whiteboards do nothing to control sound.

My phone rang at my desk. The person identified himself as Harvey something and he claimed to be an editor working for a journal of some sort – entertainment, probably. He told me, but I didn't know what any of that was. When we met several days later for a 'business' lunch, because that was the purpose of his call, he wanted to talk about her.

Lacus Clyne.

"Unofficially, we're no longer engaged." Was my typical line. I said it without so much as missing a bite of my hamburger. Harvey – who was a short guy with a large nose, thick wrinkles, and big, square-shaped glasses – frowned, but nodded. I thought maybe we were done, which was a bit naïve, looking back. And would have made this meeting a complete waste of time.

"Yes," Harvey folded both hands on the table and stared in the direction of the centerpiece. "Her managers wouldn't say that outright or nothing, but I could guess. But you know her, right? I mean, you know her better than anyone else, am I right?" He met my eyes from across the table. I placed my hamburger back on my plate and wiped at the corners of my mouth.

"I…guess so." But really, what the hell did I know? It'd been years since we'd seen each other on a regular basis. And she kept in touch, sending me email every…now and again.

-

_Dear Athrun,_

_We arrived safely on Aprilius Four today. So many people showed up to greet us when we landed. The line seemed to stretch for miles…_

_-_

But I rarely returned her messages.

"We want an article. Something that isn't the typical bull, right? Something really…" He waved his hands in a circular manner. His square-framed glasses slipped down his nose. "Something that tells the story behind the story. You get what I mean?"

It took me a minute to process. I took a sip of my iced tea. "You want me to write an article?"

"Yeah."

"On my former fiancée." I placed my glass back on the table. The idea was…

"Yeah."

I looked Harvey square in the eye. "I'm an engineer."

"Right, I know." He nodded vigorously. His thin, colorless lips stretched into a grin. "We'll pay ya. Ya'know, right?"

"I can speak English and I can write it when I'm asked to." I picked up my glass again and studied the liquid. "But my profession doesn't usually ask me to."

"That's all right." He slapped both hands down on the table. "That's why we have people called editors, right?"

I shrugged. Write an article about Lacus. What was the point in that? "I don't think so." I shook my head and chucked my napkin at the tablecloth. "There's already enough about her in print. I don't see the—"

"I understand where you're goin'. But Lacus Clyne is a woman, right? We've got all these people that think of her like she's an ideal." Harvey raised one hand and gestured in the air by rotating his wrist. "Like she's a dream, or a goddess. How long do you think she can keep that up before something has to give?"

I leapt from my chair. "If you think I'm going to—"

"No." He jumped to his feet and placed a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off. "I don't mean nothin' like that." He removed his glasses. "But we want to portray her in a way no one else has – like the woman, the human being she really is. We think that she'll be better for it and so will her fans. Right?" He held his glasses up to the light and stared at them.

That did make some amount of sense. It wasn't really fair what people demanded of her. They expected her to be more than a singer – she had to play the role of a political leader, a diplomat, the mother figure for all of PLANT.

-

_"I think Mr. Pink gets lonely with just me to play with, especially when I'm always so busy…."_

_-_

It really was too much for one person. Even someone like her.

I found my chair, again and sat down. "That's great, but I still don't see why you need me to write it."

"I already told you. You know her better than anyone." He brought his glasses down and rubbed the lenses with the bottom of the pullover shirt he wore with black slacks and…sandals?

"I think you're—"

"Who does she got that's not around her because they're paid?" He replaced the glasses on the tip of his nose. He scrunched his face. The glasses moved closer to his eyes. "She's got managers, dancers, backup singers, security, right?" Harvey sat back in his chair. "I'd ask her little robot guy, but I think he'd write worse than an engineer. Besides, you seem like a decent guy. If someone would want to help her out, well, I think it'd be you." He showed me a full set of teeth. "Am I right?"

I think by 'decent guy' he meant 'sucker', but if something I wrote could possibly help Lacus…I sighed. "I could…give it a shot."

"Excellent." He clapped his hands together. "Excellent. I need 2,000 words by three weeks from Friday." Harvey's right arm disappeared behind his back. It emerged holding a brown leather wallet. He flipped it open. "If you need some help on the draft, here's my card. I'll pay you $200."

I think my mouth hung open, but I reached for the card anyway. "You're not going to tell me how to start or…anything?"

"Nope." He pulled a few bills from his wallet and tossed them on the table. His arm disappeared behind his back at the same time he stood from his chair. "Use your imagination. What do you have to lose, right?"

What did I have to lose… Those were famous last words.

I wondered if I could borrow them.

* * *

Sixteen days, forty cups of coffee, twenty-three crumpled pieces of paper, and seven weird stares from my coworkers later… I called Harvey back.

"Yeah, Athrun Zala." His voice sounded like he'd spent a lot of his life smoking cigarettes. "Good timing. How's the piece comin?"

"Not good.I…" I sighed and tried to think of ways to phrase my frustration. "I don't think I'm cut out for—"

"No no no, what are ya talkin' about? You're kidding me, right?"

I chucked my pencil at my white laminate drafting table. "I'm not. I just…" I sat back in my office chair and rolled backwards. "There have to be other people that can help you. Maybe someone that's written something other than scientific research papers…" I brought a hand up to my run through the front of my hair. I felt like slapping it against my forehead.

"I don't want someone else." There was a pause, a wheezing breath. "Come on, what's wrong? She was your girl, right?"

I pressed my knuckles to my forehead. "Our relationship…if you can call it that….It was." I tilted my head back to look at the ceiling – as if there was some answer written up there. Yeah. Right. " I just don't think it's what you—"

"You're the only guy, Athrun. She still," Harvey coughed into the phone. "Best anyone can tell, doesn't date, ya know?"

My stomach twisted into one, large constrictor knot. "She…"

"She what?"

I spun my chair and pushed myself back to my desk. I studied the surface. The white had some chips—

"Hey, Athrun. What, where'd you go?"

"I'm here."

"You were sayin' something."

Oh. Yeah. "Nevermind."

"You sure it's not important?"

I leaned over my desk and rested my forehead in the palm of my hand. "Yeah. Positive." How could I tell him that I let her go? That Lacus, being Lacus, would have married me out of principle and nothing else? It was something I could barely admit to myself. She cared…but— "I'll give it another shot."

There was a hoarse chuckle. "There ya go, kid. I'll buy you a steak dinner when I see ya next Friday."

"Great. Thanks." I hung up and briefly wondered if I could hang myself from the ceiling with the phone cord. That seemed a little unlikely and a lot overdramatic. Instead, I revived my computer from its mid-afternoon 'nap', and settled for doing a little research on the internet. Subject: Lacus Clyne.

-

_"Lacus Clyne was born to Sigel and Faith Clyne in C.E. 55, as a second generation Coordinator."_

_-_

That had to be the most boring way to start an article, especially one that was 'new' and 'different'. But where else should I start? When my father came home and told me I was engaged to her? That seemed a little…beside the point in an article about Lacus.

After another forty minutes or so of textbook-like research, I eventually decided that Harvey and whoever these people were would get what I could pull together. And if they didn't like it, then they could get their 'editors' to fix it up however they wanted. My purpose was to supply the information

Unfortunately, that was the tough part.

-

_"Genetically, she was intended to be a teacher or researcher. Her father hoped that by the time his daughter reached adulthood, the world political situation would allow Lacus a more simple life than the one he felt compelled to choose."_

_-_

Lacus's father had been a good man, when he was alive. He and I shared a similar love of engineering – 'tinkering', he said his wife had called it. My father and Sigel Clyne had been friends, once. Before the war turned them against each other.

Before my father had his 'friend' killed in the name of patriotism. And genocide.

-

_"I see you're quite the engineer, Athrun." Sigel Clyne's voice entered the room. I glanced up from my make-shift work table on the Clyne's backyard patio. Lacus had gone for a 'walk' with okapi while I replaced one of the hinges on haro's 'ears'._

_"N-not really, sir. They're simple micro units, and I—"_

_"Simple, sure, but not for someone your age." The Chairman of the PLANT Supreme Council pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. "I struggled with my first micro unit in college, and you're building them at fourteen. I'd say that's quite an accomplishment."_

_I glanced up from my work. "Y-yes sir."_

_Lacus's father smiled. "You're in luck. Lacus absolutely adores them." He patted his left hand on top of the table. "I made her okapi when she was two and she still insists I keep it in running order. My wife, however," he folded his hands together, "never liked them. Always claimed such 'infernal toys' were in the way…"_

_-_

I couldn't help but smile, even though my chest tightened with the memory. Mr. Clyne…had a kind face and a much gentler nature than my own father. It was easy to see a resemblance between him and Lacus. It was a good resemblance…. While every morning, I searched the mirror and hoped to God no one could see anything in me of Patrick Zala…

Or as he ordered me to call him: Chairman Zala.

* * *

_"It's generally supposed that Lacus's great-grandmother is responsible for her love of singing. And her talent for it."_

_-_

I didn't manage to finish writing an entire page before I realized something… Or, actually a couple of somethings. I was about to fall behind in my job if I didn't stop bringing this with me to work. I thought I could spend a few minutes on my lunch break and during slow periods picking at the article. But my thoughts were bleeding over into regular work hours.

And not just an occasional, stray thought, though I had those, too. I just…I kept racking my brain for anything that might be unique in my knowledge of Lacus. Her life was such an open book. She'd been on countless interviews telling people anything from the fact that she wore bunny slippers to bed as a child (actually wore them under the covers while she slept), to why she had so many haros bouncing around her house – and her person – all the time.

I got most of the 'blame' for that. I'm…not really an original kind of guy. And giving Lacus a new haro for a gift… Well, she always gasped and smiled – like it was a big surprise. And then she'd spend hours playing with it, teaching it to synch with her other haros, and talking to it so it recorded things to say.

I guess I'm the type of guy that when I find something that works I stick with it. Which reminded me. This article was not working for me. Not even remotely.

-

_"Sigel Clyne's grandmother had been an opera star in the former Scandanavian state referred to as Finland. While Lacus's parents had presumed and intended their daughter for more academic pursuits, Lacus loved to sing. By age twelve, she had written her first song and sang it at her junior high school talent show. It wasn't long after that she began singing in concert halls. Her first concert was given on Junius Five in the White Symphony theater. It remains one of Lacus's fondest memories."_

_-_

I seriously doubted these people had contacted me to write her biography. I sighed, packed up my things for the day in my backpack and headed to my apartment. As I shut down my computer for the night, it occurred to me: I couldn't imagine having to earn a living like this. I'd starve.

-

_"Her first album sold over a million copies on the PLANTs. At the age of fourteen, she was considered an idol…"_

_-_

I take it back. I'd go broke, then starve. It would be a far more painful process than just starving to death.

Kind of like writing this article.


	2. Regrets and Alcohol

**A Diary of Lacus Clyne**

by the Black Rose

**AN:** This ended up much longer than I anticipated. My apologies for mostly rushing through the prologue / chapter 1. The pacing of this one will probably seem a little slower, but I wanted to try taking the time to really go over it. I hope it's not too slow.

Thank you to those that will read it. Much love, Rose

**Chapter 2**

I agreed to meet Harvey at the same restaurant for lunch so I could turn in my article. But as the time drew near, I found myself fidgeting at my desk. I think I'd read over the damn article five hundred times. I could practically recite it by memory…

In the end, I must have changed the formatting a hundred different ways. Double-spaced looked odd, but single-spaced looked smushed. I hated Times New Roman font, so I changed it to Arial. Like somehow, the way it looked could possibly make up for the fact that the article was (probably) terrible.

I finally printed the thing. I took a deep breath, but I could hear the blood rushing through my head, and my hands trembled as I paper-clipped the pages together. _It's fine. You've written articles before. It may not be the best thing he's ever seen, but it's sufficient. Trust yourself. You're not an idiot, Athrun._

Feeling only slightly better, I tucked the article in my backpack and left my little 'office' to walk the five blocks down to the café. If the writing on the pages turned out to be suitable for printing, I'd get my check and steak dinner later that evening in something that was supposed to be a 'celebration'. I think I would have settled for the small victory of not having to work on it anymore.

-

Harvey arrived before I did (probably because I left late and didn't hurry), and chose a table outside on the café patio. The artificial sun was bright, no clouds hovered in the sky. There wasn't any scheduled rain today.

The patio area held tables with tops of metal mesh. A multitude of potted, probably fake plants lined the wrought iron fence and huddled next to the restaurant wall. Harvey rose to greet me, giving my arm a healthy pump and motioning for me to sit. Before I made it into my chair, he blurted out: "So how'd it go?"

I think the chair legs tripped me. I flopped down into the heated metal seat. "Uh, all right, I guess."

"So, it's finished?"

"God, I hope so." The words slipped out. I winced. Harvey just grinned back like I had told some sort of joke. Geez, these writer types – they're a little odd.

"You brought a copy with ya, right?"

I nodded, then bent under the table and pulled my backpack into my lap; I unzipped the compartment, removed my paper-clipped article, and handed it across the table. Harvey snatched it out of my hand like a child who'd just been offered the last in a warm batch of chocolate chip cookies.

"Excellent. Excellent," Harvey said as he held the article up in front of his face. I found myself staring at the back of the pages, and trying not to hear the words I'd written repeat in my head like a mantra.

-

_"Lacus Clyne was born to Sigel and Faith Clyne in C.E. 55, as a second generation Coordinator."_

_- _

A slight breeze swept in and stirred the pages.

At some point, I must have ordered something to eat, because a waiter set down a sandwich and a glass of iced tea in front of me. Maybe Harvey ordered before I arrived?

His arms readjusted their position on top of the table; the article lowered to where I could see the top of his face. The man frowned, and his whole face became a collection of sour-looking wrinkles.

Something in my stomach began to burn. I don't think it was the two bites of sandwich.

"Lacus Clyne is an amazing woman." He wheezed. "A talented singer, and compassionate humanitarian. What is this?" He flipped the paper-clipped article at the restaurant table. It fell like a dead weight, narrowly missing the ketchup residue on Harvey's discarded plate.

I let out the breath I'd been holding and felt my heart sink into my stomach. "I suppose it's stupid to say 'my article'." I sat back in my chair. I glanced down at the sandwich in my plate, but didn't feel like eating.

He stared at me over the top of his glasses. "This. Is not your article."

I cringed. "Yeah. It is. I told you I'm not—"

"No. This isn't it." He stabbed his right index finger into the paper on top of the table. "This isn't the article I know you can write." He raised his hand and stabbed the same finger into the air at me. "Am I right?"

I stared at the edge of the table. It had taken everything I had… "I'm afraid—"

"Listen. Scrap this, whatever this is, and start over." His chair scraped against the concrete. He pushed away from the table, brought his left leg up and rested his ankle on top of his right knee. "Don't be afraid of the word limit. Write what you got." He leaned forward. "Write what's in your gut." He sat back again and waved his right arm as he spoke. "I'll go back and give some excuse to my boss. I should be able to get you an extra week." He stopped gesturing and shot me a scathing look. His dark eyebrows were bushy blocks of hair like the kind you stick on at Halloween. "And I'll do us both a favor and pretend like I never saw this. Right?"

"I just don't think this is something I can do." I stood and gripped the edge of the table for support. "I tried. But I don't think I can—"

"You can do better than this." Harvey pointed at the discarded article.

"No. That's what I'm trying to tell you." The table jumped in my hands. "I can't. I know you think I must know something no one else does, but the only thing I could even think of was that her favorite color is yellow, not—"

He laughed. I felt the urge to punch him. Hard…and repeatedly. "Athrun, Athrun, Athrun." My stomach churned. My skin felt hot.

"Friend." Harvey's voice changed pitch to something that sounded…compassionate? "Sit down." He patted the top of the table. I felt my anger evaporate. My head drooped. I sighed and found my seat again.

"I guess I wasn't clear." Harvey folded his hands on top of the table. He gave me a lop-sided, eerie sort of grin. The expression created wrinkles around his mouth at the same time it smoothed out the lines in his forehead. "When I said I wanted something no one else knows about her, I meant, no one else has the picture of her that you do." He raised his right hand and pointed at me again. "That's what I want."

I frowned. My chest tightened like that time I got caught skipping school by my father.

"We each, in our experiences, see people in certain lights." He sat back in his chair and crossed his legs again. His voice always sounded like he needed to cough or was short of breath. "My impression of you is going to be different than that guy's. Or the waiter's." He pointed at a guy at another table, then at our waiter. For some reason, my mother's admonishment to not point at people came to mind.

-

_"Mom," I tugged on her sleeve and pointed at the man behind the fast food counter. It was a rare treat to go there, just the two of us, to eat ice cream and play on the playground. I couldn't have been older than about four. "What's that guy—"_

_"Now, Athrun," Mom grabbed my entire hand in the palm of hers and knelt down in front of me. "It's not polite to point at people."_

_- _

"I want to know what you know. I want to see Lacus the way you do. Do you understand?"

I blinked and the picture of my mother's face disappeared. I shook my head.

"I see." Harvey produced a white napkin from under the table. He seemed to take some time arranging it on top of his plate. "Tell ya what. Take another week. Don't find spare time at work or anything like that, ya know?" He stopped arranging the napkin. I looked up and found him staring at me. His mouth was set in a terse line; his bushy eyebrows formed a V that pointed down at his hawkish nose. It was an expression on a different face, and yet I knew it, saw it so many times looking at me with my father's eyes.

It was an expression that I knew meant: I had failed.

"Set aside some quiet hours in the evening." His voice sounded dull. "Start tonight."

I started to open my mouth and tell him no, I couldn't. If what I'd written wasn't good enough, then there was nothing more I could do. But, my voice stuck in my throat. It formed a hard lump that I couldn't swallow.

"Play one of her songs…remember something about her."

-

_"Athrun…" Her voice sounded like a melody even when she wasn't singing. Lacus turned around to look at me, a light breeze brushed pieces of hair into her face. She curled them behind her ear and gave me a shy smile._

_- _

"And write that." Harvey was standing next to me. I glanced up at the same time he patted me on the shoulder. "Start there, all right, kid?"

I swallowed. My voice unstuck itself and I managed to say: "Yeah."

"You'll get there." One side of Harvey's mouth stretched up into something like a smile. "I promise."

I nodded and looked down at the table again. But I didn't see anything…. The image of Lacus with that smile on her face… I could remember my breath catching, the way my heart began to pound. It was still beating…racing… With just a memory. Why?

"The secret to great writing, kid, is in the emotion. Now, I know you're an engineer, but I'm betting guys like you aren't so different as you're pretending to be. Are you, Athrun?"

I blinked away the image of Lacus, and glanced up at Harvey again. A steady hum of voices, mixed with laughter suddenly rose from the tables around us. I turned in my seat, scanning the area. The tables had all filled while we'd been talking.

"You have feelings just like everyone else, am I right?"

I shifted back around in my seat and stood up. I looked at Harvey again, he had his hands stuffed in his pockets and seemed to be waiting for me to answer. "Yeah." I had feelings, just no one ever seemed to care about them.

He pulled his right hand from his pocket, reached over his empty glass, and picked up the article from his side of the table. He held it out to me.

"I'm askin' you to try again, kid. What do you say?"

* * *

I don't remember what I told Harvey. I don't remember saying I'd try again…and yet, for some reason, when I left, the assignment which was supposed to be over by the end of lunch, was still mine when I got back to the office. After spending more than a half hour in my 'office' staring at the computer monitor, unable to read a damned thing on the screen… I picked myself up, wandered over to a conference room - down the hall and around the corner - let myself in, and locked the door.

Then I collapsed face first into the couch.

-

_"I'm askin' you to try again, kid. What do you say?"_

_- _

_No!_ I screamed in my head. For a moment, the urge to get to my feet, stomp back to my desk, and call Harvey to tell him whatever had possessed me to take the assignment back was gone and he was on his own. Then, just as quickly, the feeling vanished. I picked myself up into a sitting position on the couch and stared at the floor.

I tried to think of how to rewrite my article…of how I saw Lacus…of anything that might be useful. But, for some reason, my mind was blank. Everything was blank. The dark grey carpet began to fade into a blinding, white haze.

-

I was fourteen years old when my father informed me I was engaged. The newly independent government of the PLANTs instituted marriage laws that required the genetic mapping of all single Coordinators' younger than twenty-one under its jurisdiction. Most hospitals already had such information on file. They weren't required to give our DNA information to the government itself, but they were required to anonymously submit the requisite pieces of our code against a single, national database. They would run a genetic profile several times against the search engine, each time retrieving and filing the best reproductive matches. No names were included in the retrievals – just symbols and numbers that were assigned to someone else's anonymous profile.

Before the child's fifteenth birthday, the parents were required to meet with their family doctor, assess the genetic characteristics of each candidate match, and then a request would be sent to identify the match chosen by the parents.

I have no idea which set of parents found out first… My father had known Sigel Clyne for a number of years. They'd worked together, struggled together, and once upon a time, they even shared many of the same ideals. Our fathers brought about the existence of the PLANT government. Of a united country in space independent of the Earth.

It was only fitting for their children to get married. But it couldn't happen without governmental consent. Even children whose parents' deepest wish was to see their families united had to follow the same rules as the rest of the populace. And though scientists' efforts to eliminate birth defects and unfavorable mutations had been largely successful, no one has progressed to the point where they could 'fix' genetic code for compatibility to reproduce with someone else.

After all, the purpose of these marriage laws wasn't about seeing scores of happy, lifelong partners bond and share their lives. It was about human nature at its most basic level. The desire of an animal to sexually progenerate and carry on its species. Genetically, Lacus and I could have been fated for someone else.

But, we were a match.

-

_She smiled at me from across the table – fourteen years old, and completely… "Well, we are very different, you and I."_

_- _

For thousands of children who grew up on the PLANTs, there was no other way. They were raised with the understanding that they'd grow up, get married, and have children with the partner that had been chosen for them. It was a sacrifice Coordinators made in order to carry on, without additional intervention such as an artificial womb. Critics of the practice complained that our society would become loveless; proponents pointed to scores of societies throughout history on Earth that had instituted or even still clung to similar practices. It's not like it's never been done…

But either way, on PLANT, children were raised knowing they'd have limited choices – on everything from their marriage partner to their profession.

But I wasn't raised on PLANT.

-

_Lacus held a finger to her chin. Her brow furrowed. "Even though it's already been decided, we're still too young to get married."_

_- _

I'm sure our parents thought they won the equivalent of the DNA lottery. But, I felt like I was a prisoner.

And then there was Lacus…

-

_Her brow furrowed above clear blue eyes as if she meant to study me. I couldn't help but feel…_

_She tilted her head. "In that case, our children should have purple hair, shouldn't they?"_

_I spit out my chamomile tea._

_- _

She never said how she felt about our engagement. She never said much of how she felt about anything. Until the world changed. Until she was declared a traitor by my father. Until she became a symbol to the people of PLANT.

Now, anyone could tell you how she feels about war, the political situation, the people of PLANT, as well as the people on Earth. Anyone who's ever watched her on TV can tell you her thoughts and feelings on any number of subjects ranging from environmental conservation to fashion.

What no one knew was how she really felt about her engagement to Athrun Zala. The son of the man who killed her father.

* * *

_"Kira…" Lacus's voice sounded tiny. Her shoulders sagged, her head bowed, and she looked like she was about to collapse right there. I started to move in her direction. I'd never seen her—_

_"My…my father."_

_My feet stopped moving before I could take a handful of steps. That familiar, white haze hedged into my vision and I felt like someone had injected freezing cold liquid into my veins. I knew… _

_"He's dead, Kira." I could only watch as tears welled in soft blue eyes that looked…_

_Tears spilled down her cheeks. Kira's arms moved to her shoulders. She ducked her head, her voice blubbered, and I saw her hand clench in the back of Kira's flight suit._

_I remembered thinking how her voice didn't sound like she was singing a melody._

_It only sounded like she was crying._

_- _

I blinked and came back to the present. I was sitting at my desk in my bedroom, staring at the screen on my laptop (you'd think I'd be done with staring at computers, but apparently not). My stomach smoldered like it held a lump of some quivering mass inside it – and all the acid in the world couldn't break it down. Maybe it was the pizza and beer I'd had for dinner.

Maybe it was the idea of suffering another week with this article.

I groaned, folded my arms together on the edge of my desk and leaned my forehead on top. I didn't know where to start…whether I could reuse anything of the first version of my article, or if I should just begin again.

But…with what? What could I tell…anyone about Lacus? What would make them see her as a person…Had I even known who she was? Did I know who she is right now?

-

_"Commander La Cruset, I insist you stop this attack at once. Are you trying to make this a battlefield in front of a Memorial Representative like myself?"_

_- _

Until that time, I'd never heard a cross word leave her lips. Never heard threads of steel in her voice. I'd never…guessed she could be anything more than the beautiful but naïve girl…so many people loved.

But who was the real Lacus Clyne?

I shook my head to clear these bizarre thoughts from my mind. They didn't really have anything to do with my assignment. Harvey wanted me to remember…something. Write about some memory of Lacus. It didn't sound that difficult. Just one memory… Surely I remembered enough of my time being Lacus's fiancée that I could come up with something…

Our first meeting was…Well, it went much differently than I expected. Then, we met several times after that. To talk. School began again, and we went a few months without seeing each other. But she wrote to me via email, at least once a week. She was different in her letters. Our 'talks' became deeper. Or at least as deep as conversations get for fourteen year olds. We weren't exactly discussing the loss of our inner child or anything. But she'd ask about my mother, about my friends at school.

But it was the next time I saw her…

-

_The front door to the Clyne Estate stuttered open. Lacus peeked around the wooden panel and grinned at me – only her right eye visible and half her mouth where she leaned against the edge of the door. The right half of her nose wrinkled when she smiled. I tried to return the expression, even though I didn't feel much like smiling._

_Music blared from the room behind her. I could see a few streamers, and the tail end of a sign: "-hday!" The sound of voices mixed with pop music and flowed out of the house. I clutched the bouquet of roses I'd brought with me. I should have thought of a better gift, but I—_

_Lacus's smile evaporated; she stepped onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind her._

_I shifted my weight from one foot to the other before remembering myself. "Oh." I pushed the flowers away from my chest. "I brought these for you." _

_"Thank you." Her voice sounded soft as she leaned close and took the gift from my arms. Her hand brushed mine. I kept my eyes focused at where the metal threshold met the bottom of the door._

_"Athrun? Is something…Is something bothering you?"_

_I shook my head. "No." I managed a smile this time. I stretched my lips to make sure my teeth would show (complete with braces). I could pretend… "This is your birthday, and—"_

_Lacus tilted her head._

_"And anything else can—"_

_She placed a hand on my arm. It felt… "If you had a fight with your father, Athrun, you can tell me." _

_I shoved my hands in my pockets and noticed she was wearing white sandals - her toenails painted a light shade of pink._

_"Life doesn't stop happening just because it's someone's birthday. Besides, the point is spending time with the people we care about. At least, that's what's important to me."_

_I glanced up and found myself caught in her gaze. She had light blue eyes that always looked… "But, your party—" _

_She stepped around me, down from the porch, and onto the driveway. "Oh. My. Is this a new car?" Lacus turned and tossed a look at me from over her left shoulder. If we hadn't been fifteen, I would have thought it was seductive the way her mouth curved up just on one side, her eyebrows drew together, and her eyelids slipped halfway closed. "I don't think you've ever taken me for a drive before, Athrun."_

_"The other guests will probably think I kidnapped you." _

_She turned all the way around, and held out her hand as if she was asking me to take it. Her smile infected the rest of her face. I think I might have caught it as well. "Then let's let them think that for a while."_

_- _

I shoved the keyboard away and scrambled to my feet. My chair clattered to the concrete floor on its side. Something pulled on the passageway to my throat. My hand shook when I raised it to clutch at a surge of pain inside my stomach. The room went hot and cold at the same time. Beads of sweat slid down my face.

I could hear my heart throbbing, aching as the bones of my ribcage came crushing in. I couldn't breathe.

My legs ached. The room was cramped, tiny, and something was squeezing out all the air.

I pitched towards the door.

* * *

I suppose it's fair to say I had a number of regrets in my life. By the age of twenty-two I probably had more than most. Not telling my mother enough times when she was still alive that I loved her. Not realizing sooner how mistaken and blood-thirsty my father truly was. Killing Kira's friend. Not being able to protect Nichol's life. Or Meer's.

Agreeing to write an article about Lacus.

Mixing regret and alcohol.

At some point that night, as near as I can put together the events – I ended up at a bar. Had too much to drink. Left the bar and drove to the Clyne residence. The one that was ransacked after Lacus gave the Freedom to Kira and was declared a traitor to the PLANTs. The one that was abandoned after Sigel Clyne's death.

Apparently, I was well-prepared for whatever it was I thought of doing while I was visiting the Clyne estate. I brought more alcohol with me. That way I stayed good and drunk while I missed work for two days straight without calling in.

I lay amidst the grass and weeds in a large lane that had once been a well-manicured garden.

-

_Lacus's fingers cupped one, full, white bloom. She turned her face up towards me, and her expression was too gentle to be sad. "These roses are from the symphony hall where I gave my first concert."_

_- _

Those rose bushes were gone, now. Trampled, killed, by the Zaft soldiers my father sent to kill Lacus and her father.

"Identify yourself." A voice shouted. Through a thick, white fog that had seemed to settle over this place… I could make out…a 9mm. Police issue. It wavered, but I was pretty sure…someone had it pointed straight at me.

-

I'm not sure it was a good thing that the police found me. On the one hand, I was dehydrated and diagnosed as suffering from some amount of malnutrition – so someone needed to find me since I was too damned stupid to find myself. On the other, I spent the night in confinement and then spent several more hours in a room talking to the judge in order to keep it off my record.

Apparently, I was arrested for trespassing. With criminal intent.

I think the only thing criminal in the whole situation was my stupidity.

After I showered, called my boss to assure her I was all right and that I would be back in on Wednesday to make up the hours, I reported in to see Judge Graham. I had no idea why I had to go straight to the judge instead of a lawyer or even a police officer. But worse than that, I had no idea what I was in for.

Judge Graham stood about my height; he had dark hair with dark grey sideburns that connected to a salt and pepper, close-clipped beard. He wore an ascot instead of a tie, no jacket, and carried a pipe. An honest-to-goodness tobacco smoking pipe. I wondered if the attire was required for the profession.

"Well, Athrun Zala. What seems to be at the root of your troubles?"

I stood a few feet inside the doorway. My hands felt weird at my sides. I moved them behind my back and straightened my shoulders. "No trouble, sir."

"Is that so?" He shuffled pages in a bookbinding while leaning against the shelves of one of the towering bookcases that lined the walls of his office. "The police report I have here says that there's something going on." He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "Says they found you drunk while trespassing on private property."

I took a breath. "Yes, sir."

Judge Graham turned his back towards me. He placed the book in his hands back up on a shelf just above his head. He put his hands on his hips and stepped to his right, still facing the bookshelves. "Athrun Zala." He raised his right arm and stretched his whole body. The toes of his black dress shoes pressed into the carpet as the judge coaxed with two fingers a book down from a high shelf. His voice wheezed when he spoke. "You're Patrick Zala's son." The book inched towards the edge of the shelf. The judge gripped the binding with his index and middle finger and started to drag it down from its perch.

"Was…"

The book slipped through his fingers. It sailed to the floor with a loud SMACK! Judge Graham huffed and bent to pick it up. He righted himself and turned to face me. His grey eyes constricted behind his glasses.

"Uh, that is…" I watched the toes of my shoes as I moved my feet to stand shoulder width apart. "Yes, sir."

"Are you having troubles with your fiancée, Mr. Zala?"

I glanced up from the floor (where I think my jaw was resting) just in time to see the judge toss the book he'd taken such pains to liberate into the seat of his executive leather chair and turn back to study his bookshelves. "What?"

"The report says you were found trespassing on the former Clyne estate." He grunted something and then walked to the end of the row of shelves, retrieved a short step stool on wheels. He began to roll it towards the center of the book cases. "We've notified the owner on record and the court's attorney is inquiring as to whether that person wishes to press charges." He stopped rolling the small tower and glanced up at the shelves. "Considering your family history together, I'm expecting the answer to turn out in your favor. However." He climbed on top of the steps. The judge quavered on one leg. I found myself moving in that direction. "I'm concerned about a young man getting intoxicated and missing work for two days," he said and steadied himself against the wall of shelves. "Only when I ask him what problem he's having, he tells me it's nothing." Judge Graham craned on tiptoe to pull down another volume. The man's arm shook and the stool squeaked. I could just picture him toppling to the ground underneath a whole row of books.

"Yes, sir."

He climbed down. I don't think I stopped cringing until both his feet planted solidly on the floor. "That doesn't really answer the question now does it?"

"No, sir."

The Judge turned and made his way towards his desk, but not without shooting me a razor sharp glance out of the side of his eye. "Why don't you try answering my question, Mr. Zala."

"Athrun. Call me Athrun."

"All right. Athrun." He sat down in the chair behind his desk. "Did you and Ms. Clyne have a fight?"

I shook my head. "No, sir."

"I see." He pulled his glasses from his nose. "Look, son." He let out a breath and tossed the frames onto the desk. "I don't know what's going on with you."

I noticed that the front of his desk was carved around the edges into solid-looking columns. Dark pieces of leather hung with brass tacks in two, rectangular panels.

"Which means I can't really help you. I didn't know your father, but I knew Sigel Clyne fairly well." The judge continued in his clear baritone. It echoed against the walls his office and reminded me of one of my commanding officers handing down a disciplinary action. "And if his future son-in-law is going through some hard times—"

"I'm fine."

"I see." He raised his chin. The look he gave me was sharpened steel. "In that case, I'm going to recommend that you see a psychiatrist. If you don't have a family practitioner you prefer, the court can appoint one for you." He waved his hand at me, and buried his nose in one of the books on his desk.

"A psychiatrist?" I stepped forward - mostly to keep from falling over. "I thought you said that the charges would be dismissed."

"The trespassing charges, Mr. Zala." He straightened his shoulders, but didn't look up from his volume. "Not the drunken and disorderly conduct. And if you want to question my ruling," he raised a hand and jabbed his index finger in the air in my direction. "I'll have one of the officers dig up a few witnesses from that bar you spent so much time in the other night. I'm sure someone remembers seeing you get in your car and drive away while under the influence." He glanced up, then. I flinched and wished he hadn't. I looked away.

"Yes, sir." I decided the tops of my shoes needed to be polished, as I watched them turn and walk towards the exit.

I opened the door, but before I could leave, the judge called out to me: "Make that appointment, Athrun. You look like you need to talk to someone."

I shut the panel behind me. Make that appointment, he said. Yeah. Sure. As if he'd really given me a choice.


	3. Desperation

**A Diary of Lacus Clyne**

by the Black Rose

**AN: **My apologies for this chapter being a bit delayed. Thanks very much to those that will read it.

**Warnings: **Some cursing

Chapter 3

I have this theory about life. That lived backwards, it would make perfect sense. We will stand there at the end of our lives, look back, and see our existence all fit together like the pieces of a puzzle that make up the picture that was us. And then we'll take turns shoving the shards back in the box with the photo on top, and I'll label mine: 'Athrun Zala's Life' and put it away.

Unfortunately, when we're born, we don't have the box, the blueprint, much less all the pieces. And we're living in the completely wrong order for it to make any amount of sense.

I can look back, now, and realize Judge Graham was right. And getting drunk and arrested so that I ended up in a psychiatrist's office was probably the best thing that could have happened to me right then. But at the time…

It seemed like the biggest pain in my ass since having to go through basic training with Yzak Jule.

* * *

I was scheduled for an appointment early Wednesday morning, so I called my boss (again) to tell her I would be in a little late, but I would be in – and I'd work late. Susan is a really kind lady. She didn't even fuss. Just told me to take as long as I needed.

I was honestly surprised I got an appointment so quickly. When I arrived at the doctor's office the next morning, I found out why. Apparently, Judge Graham had telephoned the doctor and asked for a favor.

Lucky me.

I stepped into Doctor Runyan's 'patient room' after the secretary told me to go "right on in". The space felt physically warm and smelled faintly of tobacco. Orange-red wood panels ran along the bottom half of the wall, offsetting the muted, pea green paint above. I heard the very dim strains of instrumental music falling from speakers mounted in the matching, green ceiling. There was no direct light from above. Instead, fixtures hung on the wall and cast light upwards to illuminate the room. A leather, three-cushion sofa seemed to be the focal point of the room.Doctor Runyan stared from across the expanse of his desk and motioned for me to sit. I briefly wondered where his ascot and pipe were before taking a seat on the edge of the couch.

"You may lie down if you prefer. You may find that it makes you feel more at ease." He had a long face, and he smiled at me by raising two triangular pieces of flesh above his mouth. He was heavy-set with short, pudgy hands that he tapped on top of his desk like they were flesh-and-blood equivalent of drumsticks on a snare drum. I sighed and waited for him to ask me what was at the root of my troubles.

"Feel free to begin anytime, Athrun," he said and sat back in his seat. He turned to his left and crossed one short leg over the other, then leaned his right elbow on his desk. I guessed this was supposed to be his 'thinking' pose.

I glanced at the clock perched on the edge of his desk and wondered how long my session in hell would last. "Begin what?"

"This is your time." He moved his right elbow off the desk. "We can talk about anything and everything you choose." The doctor waved his hand with a flourish. I could hear him rasp short, frequent breaths.

I frowned as I studied my hands. What was I supposed to talk about? "How about leaving."

"If you like. What is it that leaving will solve?" His voice sounded deep, and completely devoid of emotion. Like he had either an infinite amount of patience or couldn't care less if he tried.

I watched the tops of my hands while I rubbed the palms of my hands against one another. "My feeling of discomfort and that this exercise is a complete waste of time?" I think that about covered it.

"Only you can make this a valid use of your time. You are here because a judge sent you to this office after you were detained. That is a textbook indication that you are struggling with something." There was a sharp intake of breath. "And it just so happens that I'm in the business of helping people." he said with a nod. "So, let me help you, Athrun."

I got the feeling he was trying to sound encouraging and not entirely patronizing. But, I really wasn't in the mood for this. I felt idiotic enough, and being in a psychiatrist's office examining what led me to act like a moron in the first place wasn't really making me feel any better. "I'm fine."

He smiled again. It was a rather joyless smile that didn't show any teeth. "Your state of mind is noted."

Silence crept by. I could hear the clock ticking on his desk, and his wheezy, halting breaths. I decided that being in jail was more pleasant. "I don't know what you want from me. The only thing I'm struggling with at the moment is writing a stupid article." There, I said it. Unless he wanted to write it for me, I didn't see how he'd be able to help.

"You seem to be sufficiently intelligent, Athrun." He leaned his head back against the top of his chair. "I doubt anything you'd have to write about would be stupid."

I groaned. This was going to go nowhere. Never mind that in five minutes, I'd somehow turned into a five-year-old being scolded by my teacher. Maybe I should kick a rock on the playground and call all my classmates 'stupid', too. "I meant stupid as in it's frustrating me."

"What is frustrating you about this article?"

I leaned forward and stopped short of burying my face in my hands. "I don't know."

"Can you tell me what this article is about?"

I noticed a green rug peeking out from underneath his desk - with a leaf pattern cut into the fibers. I rubbed the fingers of my left hand across my forehead. "It's about…It's about Lacus."

I heard the chair creak like Dr. Runyan was shifting in his seat, but decided that counting the number of threads in the rug was more interesting. "I take it by Lacus you mean Lacus Clyne - the pop idol and political leader." He said the words like he was reciting the Zodiac Alliance of Freedom Treaty from memory. "Your fiancée, correct?"

One hundred and forty-two, one hundred and forty-three. "Only on the official record." I clamped my mouth shut, and glanced up at the doctor. He didn't look at me, but I could tell he'd heard what I said. I felt something hot settle in my stomach and wondered why I wished I hadn't spoken.

"Go on." He placed the palms of his hands together. His eyes looked like they were closed. Or at least, the one of them I could see was closed, since he was still facing some invisible person to my right.

"Our…" I swallowed against the burning lump in the back of my throat. "Relationship ended some time ago."

His eye opened and glanced my way. "And do you believe that this has something to do the trouble you're having with this article?"

_Yes!_ "No." I ducked my head again and let my forehead rest on the tips of my fingers. "It's not like…" I swallowed and tried to finish my thought, but. What the hell _was_ it like?

"It's, uh, difficult to explain." I dropped my hands back into my lap. The fingers of my left hand curled into a ball and rested it in the palm of my right hand. "We know each other, we've been friends for a long time."

"Is that right?"

The way he said it. I dunno. It just suddenly occurred to me…She's famous. Maybe this guy has a schedule full of delusionals who all think they're engaged to Lacus Clyne. "Sure. I mean, I wasn't just some crazy stalker hanging around her house." I think I chuckled. Or attempted to. The palms of my hands were starting to sweat. "She still writes to me. So, it's not that it's a problem to write about Lacus. It's what they want me to write about her that's the problem." I frowned. "I think."

I needed to amend the statement I made to Harvey. Apparently, I couldn't speak English any better than I could write it.

"And what have they asked you to write? Is it something unethical? Is it false or slanderous?" When he spoke, it was like he was talking to the air in front of him. He continued to face one side of his office while I got to stare at his profile. That is, when I actually looked at him instead of the green, leaf-patterned rug.

"No. Nothing like that. They just…" How did Harvey put it? "Want me to write about her from a 'unique perspective'." The edges of the rug seemed a little fuzzy. I blinked and it came back into focus. "They said they want to make her seem human. They wanted to know how I see her. Only…" I felt like sagging to the floor. "That's not so simple."

"I see. Well, why don't we go back to the time when you were still in a relationship, as you called it."

"Did I call it that?" I rubbed my palms on the tops of my jeans. "I didn't—I didn't mean to—"

"You said your relationship ended. That suggests that there was one to begin with." His voice sounded like it was on the verge of patient understanding and yet somehow disapproving.

"I meant our…" I ran a hand through my hair. "I meant the arranged marriage. It wasn't an actual relationship. We never had—" I looked up. Doctor Runyan had turned to face me with his hands steepled together over the top of his desk.

He frowned and it pinched his entire face together into a sour expression. "But, you said you've been friends. You said she still writes to you. There's some sort of relationship there, Athrun, even if it isn't romantic in nature."

"I…" Pain seared through my chest and then shot up into my head. My temples began to pound. "I guess so."

"Well, moving past that for the moment," he picked up a pen and scratched something on the surface of the desk, "if the article is difficult for you, why didn't you simply refuse to write it?"

Tell that to Harvey. Or…Or Lacus.

_"I've been invited to another meeting on the current state of our nuclear disarmament treaties next month on Earth. I was hoping I might see home before then. I think Mr. Pink has forgotten what it looks like."_

I sighed. "It's not that simple."

"Why not?" Dr. Runyan asked in a clipped tone. I gritted my teeth and ran my hand over my face.

"Because people put too much on her shoulders. They practically think she can work miracles." I glanced at the door. I could run for it.

"Shouldn't that be her concern? Or perhaps her publicists' or managers', not some perfect stranger's?"

"We're not strangers." I tore my gaze from the door and glared at the man.

"That's right." He nodded. "Because you had a relationship. But now you no longer have one." He sounded so damned antiseptic. Like he didn't give a damn about anyone.

I blinked. A vague, red haze began to cloud my peripheral vision and I found it hard to breathe. "Are you patronizing me?" I didn't remember moving and yet I was off the couch, and on my feet.

"Not at all." He clasped his hands except for his index fingers – which he held to his lips. "Tell me, what happened to end this relationship, Athrun?"

"N-nothing. I mean…" I took a deep breath. "It wasn't…" I felt the pounding in my temples ease. "Look, I really don't see how this is helping me. I was just frustrated about doing something I don't normally have to do." I flopped back down on the couch. "So, I got drunk. It wasn't the healthiest choice I could have made, but it's not worth getting bent out of shape over."

"Who is getting bent out of shape?"

"The judge." I pointed at the door as if Judge Graham was standing on the other side. "Th-the-the guy that forced me to-to see you."

"No one put a gun to your head and dragged you here. You came of your own free will, Athrun."

"Telling me I need to talk to you or face a hearing is basically forcing me to do it. I already told you, I didn't make a healthy choice, but I'm fine. There isn't a God-damned thing wrong with me!" I found myself standing, gesturing over the man's desk. The room pulsed in the corners of my eyes.

I paused, took a few deep breaths, and backed away.

"You're right, Athrun. There is nothing wrong with you." The smile was back on his face, but it wasn't the same one as before. He gestured towards the seat behind me. "Please bear with me, just a few more questions." The 'good doctor' picked up his pen again and started writing.

I blinked and sat back down on the couch.

"Have you had trouble sleeping or eating? Have you suffered from periods where you cannot focus or perhaps 'blank out'? Have you noticed a lack of energy?"

"Sure. But it's not anything most people—"

"When would you say was the last time you," he cleared his throat, "enjoyed the company of a member of the opposite sex?"

"What does that have to—" I stopped myself and tried to get my temper back in check. I settled into the cushions. "Not since Cagalli and I ended things. But even then we didn't really 'date'. She had meetings and…" I stared up at the ceiling. "Not a very normal life."

"How old were you?"

"Eighteen." I brought my left hand up and rubbed at my temple.

"So a substantial amount of time, then. You must be," he paused, "what, twenty-two or twenty-three by now."

I lifted my head from its couch-cushion cradle. "What are you getting at?"

He just smiled at me. But it was the kind of smile where his eyes turned down at the corners. I think I held my breath.

Dr. Runyan placed his pen down on the top of his desk. He tapped the fingertips of his right hand against the ones on his left. His smile disappeared. I couldn't hold my breath any longer.

"You're a desperate man, aren't you, Athrun Zala?"

* * *

I don't know how long I remained in that office or even how I managed to make it through the rest of the day. I just remember being on edge everywhere I went. And feeling like at any moment a strong breeze would send me tumbling to the ground. It was like…someone had shot me in the chest and just managed to miss my heart.

According to the psychiatrist, I needed to prepare myself – mentally and emotionally - to call Lacus. I was instructed to spend some time with my emotions, letting myself feel…whatever it was I'd been blocking from the rest of me. Then, I was supposed to find some way to get in touch with her, to discuss my feelings or whatever would get me 'closure'. I didn't have any clue what that meant. And I didn't see the point in calling her up to discuss an engagement that we thought had more or less ended six years ago…

-

_Dr. Runyan dropped his hands and gave me…an odd look. I had given up trying to interpret his expressions. "You didn't want to marry her, did you?"_

_"What? N-n-no, it wasn't—"_

_"Not at first. At first, you weren't sure." He pointed at me. "Were you, Athrun?"_

_I closed my eyes, but only for a second. "No," I said with a sigh. "I didn't like the idea of having my fiancée chosen for me. But she was…" I grasped and fumbled for something that made sense. "I mean, I was—"_

_"So, tell me," he picked up his pen and scratched something else in his notepad. "When did you realize you were in love with her?"_

_-_

I unlocked the door to my apartment and let myself inside. I felt like going straight to bed and collapsing right there. Maybe I'd get lucky and never wake up again. I sagged against the door. My backpack fell from my shoulder to the ground.

-

_"I-I-I don't even know that it can be called 'love'. I mean, we were fifteen!" My head spun and reeled. I felt like someone had taken my insides and shoved them into a blender. "Do people that young – do we even really know what it is?" My hands clutched at my head, my fingers gripping pieces of my hair as if yanking them out would somehow be less painful._

_"Yes. Your age doesn't determine whether or not you can feel the elation of love. Where youth fails is in its ability to make that love last."_

_I felt like I had just run a marathon. I struggled for air, my heart pounding—_

_"You were as capable of loving her then as you are, now." He narrowed his eyes. "But there was something you were afraid of. There is something you are still afraid of."_

_-_

I made it to my bedroom, half-carrying, half-dragging my backpack to deposit it on my desk. I moved to the closet, pulling off my jacket as I walked. I'd just pulled open the closet door when the alarm on the video phone went off. I considered ignoring it. I tried to ignore it.

Instead, I dropped the jacket and trudged over to the console located on the wall of my room. I selected the flashing "Answer" button on the touchscreen.

I didn't need a wind to knock me over.

* * *

"Athrun!" Her voice chirped from the screen an instant before she appeared in the frame. Her hair was out of her signature barrette. It tumbled around her shoulders in long, strawberry-colored waves. She was wearing a nightgown – a rather short one – and little makeup. I could see the freckles she still had on her nose.

I fumbled for my desk chair and managed to sit. "L-L-Lacus?"

She leaned closer to the camera like she was trying to get a better look at me. Her blue eyes seemed lighter than I remembered. "Are you all right?"

"Y-yes. I'm…" I blinked, but she was still there. "I'm fine." I think my heart relocated to my throat in order to beat inside my neck.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. She wore a light purple gown made of a fabric that gleamed in the light. She crossed long, slim legs, which had to be strong with all the dancing she did on stage. Haro, Mr. Pink, flapped its pink wings and rocked from side to side in her lap. "Oh. Good. I'm so glad. I was very worried about you."

I shook my head to try to clear it. "Me?"

"I received a phone call from a police detective."

Oh. Shit.

"He said that they arrested you on my family's property. I told them to release you immediately. But I had no idea…" Her head tipped to one side and exposed the long line of her neck. "What you would be doing there."

"It was just a um…" My mouth went dry and I lost the ability to speak.

"Haro! Haro! I won't accept that!" Haro added his two cents to the conversation.

"It was a misunderstanding." I found the rest of my statement. And found my eyes drawn to the top of her low-cut gown.

"Oh?"

I tried to laugh. "Yeah. They thought I was vandalizing or…" She glanced down in the direction of the floor. I let my gaze travel over her chest, then to her waist. And wondered what it would feel like— "Uh, trespassing."

"Oh, my," she said and then fell silent.

A few seconds passed, but they were like the long, awkward seconds that crawled by when I was in Dr. Runyan's office. Lacus's brow furrowed. "You don't look like you're feeling very well, Athrun."

"It's just," I looked away, "been a long couple of days. They made me spend the night in jail. The beds aren't comfortable. Worse than the military's."

"I'm still worried about you." Her voice hushed. I glanced at the monitor and saw her peering back at me. The corners of her mouth tilted up in a smile.

"There's nothing to worry about. I promise. I'm fine. A little…" I shifted in my chair and forced my eyes to stay on her face. A picture of her, in my bed, curled up beside me really wasn't helping the situation. "A little tired, but all right."

Her smile slipped at the same time her head bowed. She picked Haro out of her lap and let him rock on top of the palms of her hands. "It's been a long time since I've talked to you like this."

I lost the monitor image to the one in my brain. I could feel the satin beneath my fingertips and smell gardenias on her skin. I shook my head and came back to the present. "Y-yeah. It has."

"You look. So grown up, now, Athrun. You were just a boy when we first met. I guess we're both…" Her eyes followed Haro as he bounced. "Not so young as we once were. Are we?"

I could see the expanse of thigh just above her knees slide against each other as she shifted in her chair. My heart continued to pound in my throat. "No. I guess we had to grow up."

"Mmmm. Yes. And even though we've changed, I think we're still…" She dropped her hands back to her lap and held Haro there. "Just as different as we were then."

"Y-yeah. Uh…" I lifted my gaze again, trying not to linger on the cut of her gown. "Likewise. You're much different, than the way most people see you. The way they talk about you, that is."

"Is that right?" She smiled, and this time it was more than just a slight tilt of her mouth.

"I think so," I said with a nod.

"Mmmmm. I suppose you'd know better than I would." She inched closer to the screen. I really didn't look to see if her gown slipped any higher on her thigh (so I was completely unaware that it did).

"I'm sorry things have been difficult of late. Perhaps when I get back, you could come for tea. It'd be very nice to see you again…" Her eyelids lowered and even though Lacus Clyne wasn't a woman I'd classify as flirtatious, she was a woman in every sense of the word - and more specifically, she was a woman in a very sexy nightgown. "In person, Athrun."

"I! I-I'll have to see." I felt the blood rush to my face and knew I was as red as a tomato (as a side note: how does my body have enough blood to both react to a beautiful, satin-clad girl saying she wants to see me in person AND make me blush like a schoolboy caught with his pants down?). "My job. It-It keeps me pretty busy as you can imagine."

"I see." She pressed her eyes closed for a few seconds. When she reopened them, she didn't look at me. I think every nerve in my body went on edge.

-

_"You're a desperate man, Athrun Zala."_

_-_

"You know…you haven't returned any of my emails, either, Athrun."

Oh. "I'm sorry."

-

_"You're desperate to be seen as different from everyone else."_

_-_

She folded Haro against her chest. "I wish you wouldn't say things when you don't really mean them."

I think my jaw hit the floor. My insides changed from something tense and alert to something closer to jelly – or the substance that jelly became after it had been spun in a centrifuge. "What do you—What do you mean?"

-

_"…because everyone else doesn't know Lacus Clyne."_

_-_

"I still want you as part of my life." She raised her head to look straight at me - her blue eyes still pale, her features white. "If…if you don't wish for the same, you could at least tell me."

I had to look away.

Her voice lowered to that melodic whisper I knew so well. "Instead, you treat me like I'm a breakable doll. You lock me out and then say you're sorry that you don't return my attempt at friendship. But." There was a pause, I heard her take in a breath. "You're not really sorry… Are you, Athrun."

-

_"But when I asked you why your relationship ended, you changed your story. Because you're afraid of something that inflicts much worse pain than not knowing Lacus Clyne."_

_-_

I think I gaped at the screen. She rose and moved to stand behind the chair. "Have I done something," she pulled Haro up as if to shield herself, "so horrible that you don't even want to be…" Her hands tensed around Mr. Pink, turning the skin of her knuckles white. But it felt like she tightened her grip on my throat.

"Can't I be part of your life anymore, Athrun?"

-

_"You're afraid she doesn't want you."_

_-_

"Be a part of my life?" I rose on shaky legs from my seat. My hands trembled, I think the whole world was vibrating. "You email me every Friday or Saturday to tell me about your latest interview or performance, or even how Haro is doing. How is that asking me to be a part of your life?" I gasped for air and tried to still…everything inside me.

I saw her lower her head and close her eyes. My hands crushed into fists. "You don't want me to be a part of your life. And you certainly never wanted…" I struggled to lower my voice, but the quaking moved up my spine. My body shuddered and the force almost doubled me over. "You never wanted to be involved in my life, much less a part of it." Hot liquid splashed up from my stomach and began to seep into my chest.

-

_"You're afraid that if she had a choice, she wouldn't choose you."_

_-_

The screen turned white, but I could still hear her voice: "Athrun, that isn't…I didn't—"

"You didn't want me." The heat raced through my system like scorching water released from a dam. It stilled the twitching muscles in my body, and threatened to drown me. "You wanted Kira. You never!" I lunged towards the monitor. I wanted to shake it, to shake her… "You never cared how I felt. You still don't. You just want to feel like..." I gasped for air; it felt like boiling water filled my lungs. "You didn't cut me out. But I don't need your pity!"

"Athrun…"

"I'm fine. I'm getting along just fine without you, Lacus Clyne. So you can stop pretending to worry about me." I think I was shouting, then. I tried again to fight…back, to rise to the top of the current where I could breathe… "You can stop pretending you care."

I terminated the connection just before the final wave overwhelmed me completely…Hot rage, anguish—the rest of the feelings had no names. Or I was just unfit to name them. They broke over me, beating into my skin, scalding and filling the hollow places inside until the roiling heat forced its way into my eyes.

-

_"That's what you're hiding from yourself. You're in love with Lacus Clyne and you're afraid…terrified even, that she doesn't love you in return."_


	4. Finally, Officially Dumped

**A Diary of Lacus Clyne**

By the Black Rose

**AN: **My apologies on the delay with posting this chapter. The good news is that we're almost to the end - just chapter 5 and an epilogue to go! In the meantime, I've completed a draft of a one-shot entitled "Dusk" - my first ever Athrun x Lacus lemon. And I'm also working on a multi-part fic entitled "Yours to Hold", which is also a bit more 'adult' in nature. It will actually be longer than Diary. I hope you'll check them out!

Thank you for reading. Love, Rose

* * *

Chapter 4

I was supposed to get my thoughts in order. Keep a journal with me, jot down feelings or memories… Any time I thought about something to do with Lacus, I was to make a note of my emotional response. That way, I could tell if the doctor's hypothesis regarding my emotional outburst (aka, the binge drinking) the other night was true.

Dr. Runyan believed I was, am, in love with my ex-fiancée. And then something happened to make me feel unwanted or unloved. That it happened at a time when I was already emotionally vulnerable and suffering - probably with the trauma of war or the loss of my mother. So, I coped. I locked the feelings I had for Lacus, as well as the rest of my pain, away. And just went on.

Apparently, this may also have contributed (heavily) to my failed relationships since: Cagalli, Meyrin… Dr. Runyan believes I'm disassociated from other people – meaning I'm incapable of connecting with someone on an emotional level. He claims I'm even disconnected from myself. So he asked me to begin the process of reconnecting with my emotions using that journal - which was supposed to prepare me for dealing with the rejection I'd been avoiding - in order to gain some amount of closure.

I don't think he meant closure of the sort that accompanies yelling at the girl, making her cry, and then hanging up on her. I didn't think the doctor would be too happy to hear that story at all.

But I had another problem in the midst of all this: my article was due the next day. And I had nothing to show Harvey. Nothing but the terrible draft I'd given him the week before. I figured he'd probably notice it hadn't changed….

I had planned to work on my rewrite that night, but the call from Lacus left me sitting on my bed in the dark, just staring at nothing. I didn't feel anything, but…I thought I should. I tried lying down. I couldn't sleep.

I hadn't intended to yell at her. I didn't even know why… And the look on her face when I said Kira's name. I sighed. She and Kira had decided to 'see other people' when she came back to the PLANTs to take an active part in the high council. Kira was in a serious relationship, now, with someone else. And Lacus…

Well, she sounded…What good did it do to hurl accusations or say things that made her cry? She'd saved my life in more ways than I could count during the war. I couldn't fault her for wanting to be happy.

And what had I done in this life but failed her? Time and time again…

-

_"He's a fool!" I heard my voice echo off the metal walls of the Zaft ship the Vesalius. "He's being used by the Naturals, and he's too blind to even see it!" She reached for me. The way she did at my mother's funeral – to hold me, to comfort me… Just like that time, I turned away. _

_"Lately, it's like a different person inside." The sound of her voice caught me around my chest and wouldn't let me walk away. "When I look at you, all I see is anger and bitterness."_

_"I can't exactly fight a war with a smile on my face."_

_- _

I rubbed my eyes and finally moved to sit behind the keyboard of my computer. I opened the article to display on my monitor. The letters blurred. I squinted, and tried my best to think of _anything_ that would make this story seem interesting - so I wouldn't feel the need to change my name and relocate to another galaxy if Harvey published it.

But all I could see was her face.

-

_She held Haro against her chest. "Have I done something…so horrible that you don't even want to be… Can't I be part of your life anymore, Athrun?"_

_- _

I was a worse idiot now than I was during the war. Well, maybe not. But, I certainly hadn't learned anything since then. At least not when it came to Lacus.

I retyped one sentence, then pulled my hands from the keyboard.

-

_"You didn't want me." Heat raced through my system like scorching water released from a dam. It stilled the twitching muscles in my body, and threatened to drown me. "You wanted Kira. You never!" I lunged towards the monitor. I wanted to shake it, to shake her… "You never cared how I felt. You still don't. You just want to feel like..." I gasped for air; it felt like boiling water filled my lungs. "You didn't cut me out. But I don't need your pity!"_

_- _

I hunched over the edge of my desk. My article unfinished. My mind spinning… I woke in that position a few hours later – tears running down my cheeks and the keyboard clenched in my hands. I don't know what I dreamed of. I just knew…I had this dreadful feeling….

She was gone.

* * *

After breaking my keyboard into a million pieces, I figured I needed to go see Dr. Runyan again rather than go back to the bar. I called his office, and the answering service said they'd page him so I could come right in. It was rather amazing that they were so flexible. Then again, I told them it was an emergency. And, well, Judge's orders… 

Dr. Runyan met me at the door to his inner office. Dark circles rimmed his eyes and a cup of coffee steamed on his desk. I figured seven o'clock was a little earlier than he usually started his workday.

He motioned me inside and closed the door. I saw him blink like he had to pry his eyes open. "So, what's the emergency, Mr. Zala?"

I sat down on the sofa and opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"Yes? You seem unsettled this morning. Why don't you tell me what happened." He sipped his coffee then glanced at his watch.

I stood up and began to pace. "I called her. Well, she called me. I forgot Judge Graham let her know I'd been arrested."

"And?"

I stopped and looked at him. "I…" I ran a hand through my hair and began pacing again. "I-I don't know what came over me. But for some reason…" I flopped down on the couch. "I just." My fingers dug into my scalp. "I've been so—"

"What happened? Look at me, Athrun."

I grimaced, but did as he asked. Lines pulled at the doctor's face as he gave me a pointed look. I sighed and finally admitted: "I yelled at her."

"All right." The doctor nodded. He placed his coffee down on his desk. "Sometimes people yell—"

"I told her I didn't want her in my life."

"I see." He pursed his lips together and clasped his hands.

I jumped to my feet. "That's all you have to say? You wound me up, got me so turned inside out that I yelled at her!" I banged my hand on his desk. "And all you can say is—"

"Athrun." His tone sounded sharp.

"Yes sir." I stood at attention. Damned military.

"I didn't do anything to you except suggest that you had stifled emotions which needed to be let out. Anger is only natural. Especially if you've been burying it all this time. You felt rejected by Lacus. It's perfectly healthy to express it."

"But, I made her cry."

"You cannot make anyone do anything."

"I yelled at her. And she," I slumped down on the sofa, "became upset. Isn't that making her—"

"Naturally, she'd be upset with your anger. Especially due to the fact that it's been several years. But then you discussed—"

"No. We didn't discuss. I hung up on her after telling her to stop pretending she cared about me." I leaned forward and caught my head in both hands.

"Ah. You haven't exactly mastered handling these emotions with maturity I see."

I shot him a black look. "Bite me."

He chuckled. "And I thought I was the one with no sense of humor at this hour."

"This isn't funny." I sat up straight. "I couldn't sleep. I couldn't finish my article – something I gave my word I would do. I just…I don't know what to feel or think," I lay my head on the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling, "or anything. I'm mixed up and I feel like I'm going crazy!"

"You could call her and discuss your feelings like a rational, mature human being."

"I…I don't even know how…to talk to her. After…after what I did."

"She doesn't seem the type to hold a grudge. Or be quick to anger." I lifted my sorry, aching head. "And even if she is angry, she has the right to say so. And you should be able—"

"I don't…" I stood up again. "I'm not really good at…" I ran a hand through my hair as I paced. "I don't even know how I feel so how can I say it to her! I just. I feel like." I sighed and stopped wearing out the carpet. "Well, if I were her, I wouldn't talk to me ever again."

Dr. Runyan just smiled and shook his head. I'm glad I could amuse people with my emotional issues. Asshole. "The important thing here is. You're not her. So stop trying to figure out how you think she would feel and try paying attention to your own emotions. Figure out your heart. And express it. That's all we are capable of in this life." He picked up his coffee mug again. "Not mind reading. I haven't met the client yet that can read someone else's mind."

"I-I don't understand."

"I don't generally try to fix people's problems. I try to guide them. But you've asked me what to do, and you seem to be at a loss." He placed his mug down and shifted in his seat. "I have other patients to see and I don't wish to make light of what you're going through. But. Here's a personal suggestion, and take it or leave it, Athrun. It's completely up to you."

I sat down on the couch.

"Ask for an extension on the article. It may seem unlikely, but it's never impossible. Ask."

"But what about Lacus?"

"What about her?" He shrugged. "Call her."

I frowned and felt my heart fall into the burning pit of my stomach. "I…I can't."

He sighed. "You can. You choose not to. But let's pretend for a moment she won't accept your call or you are unable to otherwise get a message to her in a direct fashion. Is there, perhaps, another way you can think of to tell her how you feel?"

"I…I don't—"

The doctor smiled like Yzak Jule – the one time that guy managed to beat me at chess. "What are the chances, do you think, that she'll read your article?"

* * *

All right, if there was one fate worse than calling Lacus to apologize, it was the idea that she – and half the universe – would read something like my pathetic emotional outburst in a magazine. I mean, how demeaning would that be? There were already hundreds (probably) of letters published by editors of PLANT Idol and CORD Beat where boys – and girls – declared their undying love for Lacus Clyne. 

And all I could write was a sorry biography.

I reached my office and slumped down at my desk. I had two hours until I was supposed to see Harvey in order to turn in my revision. And thus far, I had nothing much to show for it - except being behind in my job deadline. Oh yeah, and I had been arrested; spent a night in jail; suffered through too many hours emoting to an aggravating psychiatrist; yelled at my former fiancée and subject of my article. And let's not forget telling her to get out of my life.

All in all, I had made solid progress towards completely ruining my life.

I lay my forehead on my desk and sighed. I don't think thirty-seconds passed before the phone started to ring. I lifted my head and stared at the caller ID. It was Harvey. I grimaced but stretched my hand towards the handset. It was time…

Time to admit defeat.

"Hey, Athrun." I started in my seat and spun around. Emily, the girl in the cube across from mine was standing on her chair, leaning over my whiteboard. Her platinum-colored hair was cropped short and pulled back in a black hairband. All I could see was her head and shoulders (and I had no idea why she couldn't just walk in here like a normal person).

"Yeah?"

Her mouth twisted into something that wasn't much like a smile. She tilted her head to one side. "Sorry to hear about your breakup."

I blinked. The phone rang again. It occurred to me that I needed to answer it.

"Yeah, man." A pudgy guy with green hair poked his head into my cube. "That really bites, dude."

I glanced from one to the other. For some reason, it felt hard to breathe. "What are you talking about?"

"That's gotta be why you've been missing around here lately, huh?" Emily crossed her arms on top of the board and rested her chin on the back of her hands.

The phone stopped ringing. And I started sweating. "What do you—"

"Oh. Right, you probably couldn't talk about it." She stood up, again. "But it's in all the news this morning. Lacus Clyne's now a single woman. I feel kinda bad for her. How is she supposed to—"

"What news?" My heart began to pound.

"Her manager had an interview this morning. He let it slip that you and Lacus are no longer 'involved' was how he put it."

"Oh." I sighed. Just 'Oh'. I was officially dumped via national broadcast and all I could think to say was 'Oh."

"Sorry to hear it, man. I was hoping you could get me her autograph." The green-haired guy spoke in a slow-sounding voice.

I shot him a scathing look. "Who are you?"

"Oh. I'm in R&D. I sit just three rows down. Hey, come by we'll go grab a beer sometime. Sorry again, man," he said and disappeared.

I glanced up at Emily. She just kind of gave me a sad smile. "Cheer up. You'll find someone else."

I nodded and turned back to my desk. My chest felt tight. Something hot lodged in the back of my throat. I didn't know why I felt like something terrible had just happened. Our relationship had been over for six years. So why…why did it feel like I had a hole freshly-carved into the side of my chest?

And why did I feel like telling Emily that I didn't want to find someone else?

The phone rang again. Or it didn't. I don't remember. All I knew was Harvey began shouting at me through the receiver. "Athrun! Please tell me—"

"I need more time." I stared in the direction of my desk, but didn't see anything. Everything was white, grey…my mind felt hazy and blank.

"What?"

-

_"Ask for an extension on the article. It may seem unlikely, but it's never impossible. Ask."_

_- _

"I know I can get you…." I swallowed against the lump in my throat. "I know I can get it done."

"How long?" Harvey's voice sounded quiet. Was he really considering it?

"Just a…" What was reasonable? "Uh, a week. Give me one more week. I promise—"

"Another week?" He shouted at me. "Kid. Seriously, we go to print in twelve days!"

He might have said something else, but all I could hear was Dr. Runyan's voice repeating his judgment in my mind…

-

"_You're still in love with Lacus Clyne and you're afraid…terrified even, that she doesn't love you in return."_

_"No, I…That can't be it." My hand shook when I ran it through my hair. "I-I-I care about her, but I…She doesn't love me, how—"_

_"Did you love her because you thought she was in love with you?"_

_"N-no. I—"_

_"Then why does it matter how she feels? Not that it doesn't matter at all, but whether she feels the same for you or not—"_

_- _

"Do you have another draft," Harvey's voice cut into my thoughts, "or anything I can tell my boss I'm—"

"No. I've," I blinked and tried to clear my head, "run into a few problems. That's why I need a week. If you don't give me the time, you've got nothing at this point. What difference will it make if you have nothing now or nothing in a week?"

-

_"Whether she felt the same for you or not, it didn't change how you felt for her. Did it?"_

_My thoughts cleared and I felt a sense of calm settle over me. "No. No, it didn't."_

_"Then tell me. Why did you fall in love with Lacus Clyne?"_

_- _

"The difference is that I can get filler," Harvey yelled into the phone. "The difference is I don't get my head chopped off by my boss! Athrun, you gave me your word and I…"

-

_"Why did you fall in love with Lacus Clyne?"_

_"Because to her…" I felt like smiling and crying at the same time. But it was okay… "To her, I was Athrun Zala. Not who my father wanted me to be. Not what people expected me to be because of my family name or genetics. And I wasn't just a soldier, either." I sighed, and all the tension fled from my body. "I was Athrun, a kid who liked to tinker and build micro units. And that was…that was enough for her."_

_- _

"I know the story I can tell. It'll be…" I grasped for words. "You were right. I got an idea. It was late, but I think….I think it'll be what you're looking for." I held my breath and hoped I'd come off sounding enthusiastic.

Harvey sighed. "Sure, kid. I'll bet on ya. Take the week. I'm gonna get in deep with my boss, but I'll think of something."

The line disconnected. I placed it back in the cradle and buried my face in my hands. Despite what I told Harvey…I still had absolutely no idea what I was going to write.

-

_"What are the chances, do you think, that she'll read your article?"  
_

* * *

_Excerpt from the Athrun x Lacus one-shot "Dusk" (set Post-Destiny):_

"I always felt like something wasn't right. I kept telling myself that it would take time to get used to living in peace. But it wasn't…" Athrun glanced at her before letting his gaze fall to the ground. "Maybe it was different for you."

Lacus caught pieces of her long hair as she turned to face him. She placed one hand on his arm. "This is probably silly, but. I feel like a child who ran away from home, thinking she was meant to have a better life. Only to realize…" She swallowed and willed herself to continue. His eyes fixed on her. "How much I loved and missed…who I was running from.

He frowned. "The people of PLANT?"

"No." She dropped her hand and took a step towards the house. "You." 


	5. Not a very solid plan

**A Diary of Lacus Clyne**

by the Black Rose

AN: Athrun POV. Post-Destiny. Epilogue to follow. Please see request for a favor at the end of the epilogue. Thank you so much and happy holidays!!! Love, Rose

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Saying I still had no idea what to write in my article was like saying that war was something humans should try to avoid. It's like boiling the most blatantly obvious, monumental frustration or gaping wound in society down to a single sentence. One that does no justice whatsoever to the sheer magnitude of the problem.

So, I took Saturday and more or less tied myself to a chair – after buying a new keyboard to replace the one I'd demolished. I did get a rewrite done, but it still…. It just seemed to meander from here to there and never make any sort of point. It managed to sound a little less like a stranger was writing her biography and a bit more like the author had actually met her.

I hated it.

And if I hated it, Harvey was going to wad it up and throw it at me - or shove it down my throat and make me choke on it - for ruining his career.

Sunday came, and I decided that I still had five days to get my work done; maybe I was putting myself under too much pressure. Ok, fine, so Dr. Runyan told me the same thing two days before. But I've always been a little hard headed.

I tried not to notice my typical email from Lacus hadn't come.

I thought about writing her. But…I still just…I didn't know what to say. After all my discussions with Dr. Runyan, I believed that I had fallen in love Lacus at one point. But it had been years… Obviously, I still cared about her. I wouldn't deny that. To the point of loving her? Sure, even that seemed…accurate enough.

But being 'in love' with her was something different. Being in love with her was the problem. I know that doesn't make a lot of sense. But, as the good doctor put it to me: We love certain people in romantic ways. Then, we have attachments that are no less deep – and that's love of another kind. We love our parents, we love close friends.

I guess I hadn't really thought about it. I had people in my life. Some of them, I was closer to. Like Kira. Some of them, there was a closeness and then it fell away. Like Cagalli.

Yet when I took the time to consider it, maybe there was a difference with Lacus. But how could I call her until I knew…really knew how I felt – now, not any other time, but right now?

I flopped down on my bed. There was a way, a logical way to reason this out. I'm an engineer. Reason and logic could solve anything.

-

Hours of research on the internet yielded nothing. After reading all about the chemicals of the brain and oxytoxin – the love hormone – I gave up on that and decided I knew about as much as any other scientist on the matter (which amounted to absolutely nothing).

I glanced down at my desk. The journal Dr. Runyan gave me seemed to leap out of the mess of beer cans, a pizza box, and some crumpled pieces of paper.

-

_"Then tell me. Why did you fall in love with Lacus Clyne?"_

_- _

Why did I? Why does anyone love another person?

-

_"Because to her, I was Athrun Zala - a kid who liked to tinker and build micro units. And that was…that was enough for her."_

_- _

I did love her, then. But how…how could I figure out if I hadn't gotten over those feelings? How? I didn't seem to feel anything. Nothing. Most days, I was either fine or I was angry. There wasn't much in between, except feeling numb. Empty…

-

_"I suggest you take some time reconnecting with yourself and your emotions. Usually, I recommend keeping a journal…"_

_- _

And then there was the problem of my article.

-

_"The secret to great writing, kid, is in the emotion. Remember something about her and start there. Write that."_

_- _

Was it possible…I couldn't write the article about Lacus because I didn't know how I felt about her? I didn't see why that would make a difference, but—

I found the diary the doctor gave me on top my desk. And that's when it clicked. "Observation." Damn, that psychiatrist was smart. Too smart. I wanted to punch him for being right.

I picked up the leather-bound book – a freebie he promised to charge Judge Graham for (a promise he related with a grin) – and turned it over in my hands. I pushed the chair away from my desk to think.

If I broke all this out logically, I could feasibly write a draft of my article in a day. So, if I took my journal with me for three days and wrote down all my thoughts about Lacus… It was remotely possible I could uncover something that might give me direction on what to write.

Then maybe, just maybe…if I could finish the article, I would discover what I wanted to say to Lacus.

* * *

All in all, it wasn't that solid of a plan. There were a lot of maybes in there. Aside from when I'd originally taken on the article assignment, the only time I really thought of Lacus is when she wrote me that email once a week. But, I figured with the article even in the back of my mind… Well, it was likely I'd think about her at least once in the next three days. So, that wasn't too problematic. The rest…

Well, the rest would be a gamble no matter what I did.

I decided to let myself have some relaxation time the rest of Sunday afternoon, and then I could start my project in the morning. I didn't really know what to do with myself, but I didn't end up having to figure that out when my phone rang. It was Lunamaria.

"Hey, Athrun. Heard about you on the news."

I wanted to sink into the carpet. Yes, I was dumped. Six years ago. But everyone was just finding out about it, now. "Uh. Yeah. I, uh—"

"Why don't you come meet us for a drink?"

I think I said sure. It seemed like a good idea to just get out and see old friends. It had been months since I'd talked with Shinn and Luna. They seemed glad to see me when I arrived at the pub – which basically amounted to a smoke-filled bar with a few billiards and shuffleboard tables.

Shinn took a break from shooting pool and Luna bought me a beer. They didn't want to talk about Lacus.

"You look like you're tired." Lunamaria handed me a frosty glass. She tucked a stray piece of auburn hair behind her ear and frowned.

"It's just been a rough week," I said with a sigh. I seemed to have a gift for understatement. I tried to arrange my mouth into a smile even though I didn't feel remotely happy. It was…adequate to see my friends.

Luna propped her chin on one hand as she leaned over the bar. "Working too hard as usual, huh?"

"Maybe. I just…ran into a few problems with an assignment." I took a sip of my drink and decided it was better to divert. "What about you? How're the wedding plans going?"

"Oh. Swell." Shinn rolled his eyes at the same time he ran a hand through his dark hair. "Why don't you tell him how long it took just to pick out colors on the invita—"

"You'd better stop now, Shinn Asuka," Lunamaria rose to her full height and planted both hands on her hips, "or you'll find yourself a jilted groom come June."

I shook my head as the couple continued to bicker. I had to be at work the next morning, so I didn't stay long - just long enough to get out of the house and say hello. But, I did get one parting piece of advice from Lunamaria.

"Athrun." Her hand on my arm kept me from stepping out the door. "You're a good guy. A real…hero. We may not have always seen eye to eye in the end, but you. You were a damn good pilot, and a—"

"Thank you." I gently pulled from her grasp. "I appreciate it, Luna."

She surged forward on tiptoe and gave me a quick hug. Then she was back on her heels and smiling up at me. "If she's not smart enough to realize how great you are, there's someone else out there that will."

"Hey! What about how great I am?" Shinn growled and threw an arm around her shoulder. Luna gave him a wry look. He shrugged and then released her.

"See ya around," Shinn said and stretched out his hand. I shook it. He turned and went back to the pool table, leaving me alone with his fiancée.

"I just…I hate to see you down like this. The Athrun I remember—"

"Luna. The Athrun you remember," I shook my head, "the hero never existed. I'm just…I'm just. Me." I smiled and kissed her forehead before opening the door and stepping out into the street.

"He did. I saw him, Commander, I—"

The door shut. I left her and Shinn behind and started home.

* * *

I woke the next morning and started my day in the usual way: I showered, dressed, and dashed out the door. Then stopped at the convenience store on the corner to grab a cup of coffee. I realized I hadn't brought my journal (damn) and I was already running late. So, I bought a plain notebook and a bear claw (because I like bear claws), then sped towards my office.

Along my drive, I thought of Lacus. Probably due to the notebook purchase. But what came to mind was: I was sorry. I made a mental note to jot that down as soon as I got to my desk. Writing while driving wasn't exactly my strong suit (any sort of writing was not my strong suit). And the last thing I needed was to get pulled over. I'd had enough trouble with the police to last one lifetime.

I wasn't at my desk five minutes when Emily popped her head over my whiteboard. Her hair pulled back into a ponytail, she smiled at me. "So, how's bachelorhood?"

I sighed and considered crawling under my desk. Why was my personal life of so much interest lately? "It's fine. Really."

Dammit. I'd forgotten to log my journal entry. I picked up my notebook and opened the cover.

"So what'd you do this weekend?"

I glanced up. "Nothing, really. Just, uh, read a book." Yes, such is the exciting life of Athrun Zala. That was bound to get her to stop nosing around. I turned around to place my makeshift journal on my desk and grabbed a pen.

"If," her voice trailed off for a second, "if you're upset or anything. You can talk about it, you know."

My stomach turned over. I stopped staring at the notebook in front of me, but didn't turn around. "It's really not what you think. And why are you so interested, anyway?" I glanced over my shoulder. "We've worked together for months and now you—" I looked down at the blank page again. "Forget it. Thank you for being concerned, but I'm all right."

"She seems…well, nice enough. Just like, I don't know. Half the time she's giving speeches, I think someone's telling her what to say."

I set down my pen. "You don't know her. Everyone always thinks they know her. But no one does. No one really does… "

Dr. Runyan's words from my last session repeated in my head.

-

_"The important thing here is. You're not her. So stop trying to figure out how you think she would feel…"_

_- _

"Not what she thinks, not how she feels. And yet everyone who's ever seen her…"

-

_"You don't want me to be a part of your life. And you certainly never wanted me to be a part of your life."_

_- _

"Somehow, they think they know exactly who she is. And what she wants. But the only one who does is Lacus Clyne."

"Then that's," she said in a small voice, "really lonely."

I nodded. "Yeah. It is."

I picked up my pen and willed it to write something even if the person holding it didn't know what to say. Should I address the entry to her? Should I give it a date and timestamp like an observation log? Should it go "dear diary" or just be 'I thought of her on my way in to work this morning.' Or even just: 'I felt like apologizing.'

"I'm supposed to be writing an article." I heard my voice speaking, but had no idea why I offered that information to my coworker.

"An article?"

"Yeah." The blank page stared at me. It wasn't mocking, just…waiting. Impatient. "Ab-about her."

"That's good. I mean, I think it's good. Is it?"

"Yes and no. I'm just," I sighed and wondered if I could just lay my head on the journal and let the words sink out of my head. "I don't know how to start."

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it too much." Emily's voice chirped. She really sounded too happy for a Monday morning. "You know what they say."

I turned to look at her. "Uh, not exactly?"

"Nothing is written. It's rewritten," she said with a grin. "Just write something, get your ideas on paper then go back and make it good."

Was that supposed to make me feel better?

"If you want me to, I'll read over it when you're done. I was an English major you know." She waved. "Later." Emily disappeared behind my whiteboard, leaving me to the staring contest with the blank journal page.

My pen finally scribbled the date and time at the top of the first blank sheet.

-

_Monday. 8:30am_

_I thought about her on the way to work this morning. I just felt this overwhelming urge to apologize._

_- _

I peered at the words scrawled across the paper. That wasn't so difficult. And the sentiment didn't seem terribly threatening… It was only natural to want to apologize after yelling at her. I gave a short nod of my head, flipped the notebook closed and went back to work.

* * *

Just before bed, I opened my notebook and paged through the entries. There were three. One from this morning, one I wrote at a restaurant during lunch, and one as I was making dinner.

-

_Monday. 12:30pm_

_The hostess smiled at me when I asked about the flowers in the vase. They were a special kind of rose developed to grow here on the PLANTs. I just remember the way Lacus smiled when I gave her roses that same color._

_- _

_Monday. 7:30pm_

_I heard her name on television and found myself smiling. I wonder if she's angry with me. I wonder if she's ok._

_- _

I closed the book, fairly satisfied with my progress for one day. Then laid down and went to sleep.

-

_Tuesday. 6:30am_

_I dreamt about her last night. I blame this journal for feeding my subconscious. But, despite what scientists say about REM sleep, I feel like I spent all night dreaming._

_We were younger… Before the war. And I went to visit her like I used to. I gave her flowers and a new haro, and she smiled at me and seemed happy. We took a walk in her family's garden with the white rose bushes that lined the courtyard. It was just the two of us there. And it was so peaceful. Just the way things used to be._

_I don't remember the rest. I just know I woke up crying. Why do I feel like I've lost her? Why does it feel like I'm the one who's lost?_

_- _

_Tuesday. 9:10am_

_Kira called to ask me if I'd spoken to Lacus lately. I lied and told him I hadn't. For some reason, I couldn't tell him how I'd treated her. Not that it's his business anymore. He's moved on._

_I'm beginning to think maybe I haven't._

_- _

_Tuesday. 11:37am_

_I completed my project, despite my recent personal difficulties, on time. My boss wasn't available, but sent her thanks by email. She said I could take the rest of the day off. But, I don't know what I'd do if I wasn't here._

_A part of me…Well, part of me wishes I could take a walk amongst white rose bushes and stay for tea._

* * *

A Diary of Lacus Clyne

By Athrun Zala

_**Foreword**_

_My name is Athrun Zala. It's a name that I've found means different things to different people. When I'm being overly generous to myself, I'm reminded that to some in Zaft, I was a good soldier and a top MS pilot. When I'm being honest, however, I remind myself that many see me as the son of a vengeful madman and a traitor to the PLANTs._

_And though both of these are technically true about the circumstances that make up the threads of my life, there is one person who always saw me for the person I am. And who encouraged me to be the person I want to be. _

_Her name is Lacus Clyne._

_I'm not generally a man who speaks or even writes eloquently, and I fear even the best editors are incapable of performing miracles. So, I'm hoping that this journal – excerpts of my thoughts chronicled for the period of a week – tells the story I'm otherwise unfit to tell._

_- _

_Monday. 12:30pm_

_The restaurant hostess smiled at me when I asked about the flowers in the vase atop the table. They were a special kind of rose, the first of their kind - developed to grow here on the PLANTs. I just remembered the way Lacus smiled when I gave her roses that same color - the day we met._

_- _

_Tuesday. 5:40pm_

_The radio DJ says Lacus has a concert tonight. I remember the time I went, after we were engaged. Her manager actually allowed me backstage before the performance. She looked at me and said her stomach always does flip-flops before she sings. Her hand shook when she reached for mine. _

_It never occurred to me that she would be nervous. She sang all the time._

_She let me hold her. I don't know who was more nervous, then. _

_I wonder if she still gets nervous. I wonder who she has to hold her hand…_

_- _

_Tuesday. 7:12pm_

_I forgot it was scheduled to rain today. It brought back memories - too many all at once: _

_When Lacus stood beside me at my mother's funeral. _

_When I aimed my gun at her during the war; when she gave me back my life… Somehow, by some miracle, I wasn't the killer I saw in the mirror every day. So what was I doing pointing a gun - at her?_

_I tried not to remember my father's tirade. The end of our engagement. The tears in her eyes because my father had been the one responsible for Mr. Clyne's death. These are the memories that come with the rain. Rain that's necessary for life to exist on the PLANTs. But all I remember is tears._

_When they were mine, I turned away her comfort._

_And when they were hers, I wasn't the one she asked to hold her._

_- _

_Wednesday. 8:15am_

_Lacus was never more beautiful than the time I saw her, after the war was over, standing on the edge of the beach. The ocean, she said it was so much different than she imagined. _

_She'd always wanted to feel the wet sand between her toes, she told me, once, when we were still just children. I remembered saying that was ridiculous. Wet sand between toes wasn't a pleasant feeling. She shook her head and told me I was too logical._

_I never liked the feeling, myself. Never thought much of the ocean. I'd never taken time, really, to admire it. _

_Or her. _

_How many things in this life do we take for granted? How many miracles do our logical eyes miss?_

_It's not the unpleasant feeling of sand between my toes that I remember about that day. It was standing there, with my shoes in my hands, the legs of my slacks folded up to my knees, just watching her…Her hair was the same color as the clouds looming on the horizon. She held out her hand to me, and the smile on her face – it was like everything could go back to the way it was. _

_I don't know how long I stood there. Frozen. Afraid for all the world to take her hand and risk waking from a dream. I held too many bad memories. I had walked in too much blood._

_Thunder rumbled in the distance. We ran for cover from the storm._


	6. Your article wasn't about me, Athrun

A Diary of Lacus Clyne

_By Athrun Zala_

_**Afterward**_

_I was charged with writing an article about a more human side of Lacus Clyne. Honestly, this magazine - who knows why you're even reading it - made a very poor choice for this assignment. For a couple of reasons: mainly the aforementioned lack of writing ability, but also because from the beginning, Lacus Clyne was always something of a mystery to me. Although the biggest mystery of all was how did __I__ end up engaged to __the__ Lacus Clyne?_

_When we met and became friends at fourteen, our parents had already settled the arrangement between us. But then the world changed and tore everything we knew – our families, our relationship, even ourselves – everything was torn apart. My father ended our engagement years ago, the declaration just never made it into the official records. _

_But by then, I had already fallen in love with her. I'm sure that probably comes as no surprise to most people. Who doesn't love Lacus Clyne? _

_A fourteen year old boy angry with his father for deciding his life for him didn't love Lacus Clyne._

_A fifteen year old soldier charged with 'rescuing' an idol from the enemy didn't love Lacus Clyne._

_But a fifteen year old traitor and prisoner, bleeding from the gunshot wound his own father inflicted… It wasn't the first time she had saved me in some way. It was just the first time it really struck me, and it struck hard – just how much more there was behind a pretty face, a gleaming smile, and a beautiful voice._

_It was also the first time I saw her cry. _

_And I have to say, it is one of the least graceful things she does. Her eyes turn red and swollen and glassy. And when she sobs, it sounds like… _

_It's the sound of your mother crying from loneliness because we've been so far away from home, for too long._

_It's the sound your heart makes when you watch your friend die on the battlefield._

_Falling in love with someone is such a gradual thing. Lacus always seem to smile, she smiles more than anyone I've ever seen. She must have smiled at me hundreds of times over the years._

_And I didn't love her then. Too caught up in myself, my own problems, my own mess of a life that I still struggle through day after day, I missed what was right in front of me._

_I know, I know. Soap operas and movies are filled with stories of love only realized once it's lost. Where the heartbroken give up hope, yet somehow find the courage and the strength to move on. _

_That isn't my story. _

_That isn't this story._

* * *

A tapping sound startled her. Lacus looked up from the magazine she held in her hands. The air in her hotel room issued a quiet hum. Even Mr. Pink lay silent at the foot of her bed, asleep. She slipped out from under the comforter and glanced at the dresser against the wall. But the clock wasn't there. She sighed. _'Just when I get used to one hotel, the next is arranged completely different.'_

The sharp rapping sounded again. She flipped the journal upside down on the bed, placed her feet on the floor, and pushed herself off the bed. "I'm sure it's the tea," she said out loud as she rushed to answer the door.

The person knocked again, and the thought occurred to her: "But, I haven't ordered the tea, yet." She stopped. The tapping grew louder and more insistent. She bit her bottom lip. Lacus tilted her head, then continued forward. The carpet tickled the bottoms of her feet. Lacus grabbed the doorknob, and pulled it open. _'Oh, I should have looked to see who it is…'_

A large bouquet of roses stood in the hallway. They greeted her at eye level - masculine hands wrapped around their stems and suspended above a pair of jeans._'Athrun?'_ Her stomach spun in crazy circles. "Oh my…" She said to the flowers. They rustled and tumbled forward. She held her arms out to catch them.

The bouquet spoke: "S-sorry. I-I brought these for you."

She glanced up to find familiar green eyes staring down at her. Lacus felt her heart skip as she hugged the flowers, and gave him a smile. "Thank you so much, Athrun. Won't you come in?" She moved aside to allow him to enter. The former Gundam pilot pushed his hands in his jean pockets and stepped into the room.

Lacus shut the door behind him. "It's good to see you."

"I uh…I-" He held out a tube with his right hand. "I brought you this, uh, too."

Lacus eyed the object from around the bouquet, but instead of reaching for it, she turned to gently place the flowers on top of the dresser. They smelled sweet like perfume and candy.

Lacus smiled as she moved to take the gift from her guest. The tube relaxed into the magazine she'd held just moments before. The young woman blinked. "But, I was already reading it. I have a copy over there." She pointed in the direction of her bed.

"Oh. I, uh. That is, I—I hope you don't mind that I," his voice lowered, "that I wrote about you."

She frowned. "But you didn't, Athrun."

"I didn't?" His eyebrows rose. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Would you like some tea? I could have some sent up. Or coffee if you prefer." Lacus shuffled over to the table to grab the in-room dining menu. Athrun caught her arm and spun her to face him.

"You didn't like it?" His handsome features pinched into a tight frown. His green eyes glimmered in the light, and his lips pressed together to form an angry line.

"Like what?"

He leaned closer. His grip on her arm tightened. "The article."

"I liked it very much." She tried to turn away again. The air had warmed when he moved closer, making it difficult to breathe.

He grabbed her shoulders. The move kept her from escaping. Her pulse sped up – she could hear it hammering in her ears.

"Lacus."

"Yes?"

He bowed his head and retracted his hands. Her skin cooled and she took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry."

"For what, Athrun?"

"For what I said to you the other night. For not returning your emails. For not being a better fiancée – when we were together. For not being a better friend when things…" His mouth moved, but no sound came out. Then, his voice caught again: "When we—"

"Athrun, I was happy when we were together. And you're forgiven for the rest. I'm glad you came to see me. I've been worried about you." He'd grown so tall. She had to tilt her head back to smile at him. His dark hair was cut a little shorter than she remembered, but it was his eyes that had changed the most. They were clear, the skin around them bright – no more shadows and black circles like he had during the war.

"Did you understand what I was trying to say?"

She blinked. "When?"

"Lacus! If you're still angry with me, just say so, but I poured my heart out to a circulation of 5,000 people," he pointed in the direction of her bed, "or more for just this issue – and you didn't even get it!" The former Gundam pilot panted like he was short of breath, but continued pointing.

"I'm not angry with you, Athrun. I never was." She glanced in the direction of her bed. "As for the article, I told you I liked it. Sometimes, I like to read things twice—"

"That's it?" He dropped his arm. "I suffered through writing that about you, for you—For me. They asked me to write about you—"

"But you didn't, Athrun."

"You keep saying that. You're the point of the article, Lacus. You."

His tone sounded sharp, angry – like that night.

-

_"Be a part of my life?" He stood up, and she could see his arms quiver. "You don't want me to be a part of your life. And you certainly never wanted to be involved in mine."_

_"Athrun, that's not—"_

_"You didn't want me!"_

_- _

Her heart clutched in pain, but she gave him a smile. "They say sometimes authors miss the depth in their own stories. Your article was good, Athrun. But, it wasn't about me."

Her former fiancé straightened his posture. His eyebrows rose. "It wasn't?"

"No."

"Th-then what was it about?"

"It was about you. I'm sure that's why they asked you to write it. Because we know each other."

"Me? But they wanted—"

"In order for people to see me the way you do, they have to connect with you – and you with them. As I read it, I felt the way you did. You could have written it about anyone and the result would have been the same."

"I don't think that's true. If people connected with me, it's because they admire you." He ducked his head and shoved his hands back in his pockets. "A-almost as much as I do."

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit."

-

_"You wanted Kira. You never!" He lunged towards the monitor. "You never cared how I felt. You just want to feel like you didn't cut me out. But I don't need your pity!"_

_"Athrun…"_

_"I'm fine. I'm getting along just fine without you, Lacus Clyne. So you can stop pretending to worry about me." _

_"You can stop pretending you care."_

_- _

"That's all you have to say?"

"What else is there to say?" She shook away the image of his angry face on her communicator screen. "I don't understand what you want—"

"I wanted to see you." He stepped closer; it was enough to make her dizzy. "Just you. To tell you that I have always felt this way about you, and in some way, probably always will. If you don't," he looked away, "love me, I understand. But I do want you in my life. And I want to be part of yours."

She gasped. "I-I just don't—Wh-what brought this all—" The room seemed to spin. "Why now, Athrun?"

"I just finally realized that… That loving you. It's not something I want to run away from." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Athrun smiled with warm eyes. Then turned and took what seemed like slow, measured steps towards the door. He grasped the doorknob. She watched it turn.

-

_"You can stop pretending you care." His image faded from view. Her heart squeezed, and she rushed to the controls to try to bring him back on screen…bring him back at all. But the connection was lost._

_Lacus sunk to the floor as more tears trickled down her cheeks. She didn't bother to wipe them away. "All this time…"_

_- _

"I—" Her voice finally came unstuck.

He stopped.

"I thought— Well, that is, you might like to go for a walk?"

He released the door and stepped back into the room. His gaze met hers.

"I've been cooped up in these hotel rooms for weeks."

Athrun stared at her as he moved closer. His hand touched her shoulder then slid down to rest on the back of her arm. Heat burned through her system and touched her cheeks. She had to look away. "B-but if you don't have to leave right away, we could walk together. And talk? We haven't talked like this in so long, I—" He tilted her chin where she had to look at him. Lacus swallowed against something lodged in her throat. She could smell the wood-flavor of his aftershave. The room continued to spin, but his eyes…his eyes were all she saw. He lowered his head.

"Athrun, I—" His mouth pressed against hers, coaxing her lips into a kiss. She felt his hands grasp her waist. Her heart hammered quick and loud like it wanted to burst from the confines of her chest. Athrun pulled away. She found herself gasping for air. And then his lips met hers again, his arms crushing her against his body.

Her eyelids slid shut. She wrapped her arms around his neck. His mouth against hers, his hands at her back. _All this time…_She clutched a fistful of hair and clung to him to keep the carpet from slipping out from underneath her feet.

_I was waiting for you._

_- _

* * *

**_A preview to my upcoming Athrun x Lacus series: _**

Chapter 1

Lacus met his gaze from across the white-tableclothed centerpiece. Her light blue eyes sparkled. "I want to have your child."

Athrun tried to swallow the water he had just sipped from his glass, but for some reason, it went down wrong. He coughed and fumbled his water goblet. Ice and liquid splashed out of the glass, onto his hand and the cuff of his shirt; it soaked the tablecloth. Athrun reached for his napkin, and pressed it to his lips. He coughed again.

"Oh. My. Are you allright?"

He nodded and tried to swallow again. Movement to his left caught his attention and Athrun turned just in time to catch several pairs of eyes staring in their direction. He coughed, wiped the water off his hand with the napkin and set it on the table.

He gaped at the young woman sitting across from him. His fiancée, ex- fiancée, close friend, whatever-she-was. She sat with perfect posture, her strawberry blond hair swept up in a mature style – probably too mature for her twenty-four years. She wore an ivory, off-the-shoulder dress, and a simple strand of pearls at her neck.

"Athrun?" Her eyes dimmed and her eyebrows drew together into a small frown.

He opened his mouth. It took a minute for sound to come out. "Mine?" 


End file.
